


Submarine

by CaptainBlackbean



Category: Hellboy (Comics), Hellboy - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:53:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29172960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainBlackbean/pseuds/CaptainBlackbean
Summary: A story from Hellboy's childhood, in which he learns to swim in the desert.
Kudos: 3





	Submarine

**Submarine**

**_1951 - Somewhere in the Chihuahuan Desert, New Mexico_ **

****

**An army convoy tore through the desert. The trucks spewed clouds of gasoline. Their tires ripped apart red soil. Animals scattered at the growling engines.**

**Hellboy leaned out the passenger’s side window of the middle truck, surfing the air with his tin toy submarine.**

**“Target locked!” he said against the wind. “Ready for launch? That’s a ready for launch, sir! Fire!” Hellboy made a whooshing noise, then mimicked the sound of an explosion. “BOOM! PCHEW! Direct hit! Enemy sub down, sir! Enemy sub down! Victory! Victory!”**

**“Sounds like we’re winning,” said Sergeant July from the driver’s seat.**

**Hellboy turned back into the cabin. “It was the best torpedo shot in history!”**

**Sergeant July whistled. “Wowza. The best one? Sure glad you’re on our side.”**

**Hellboy stiffened his chin and saluted. “Happy to be of service, Sergeant July.”**

**“At ease,” July said. “And just Marky is fine. When people call me Sergeant it reminds me I’m supposed to be paying attention.”**

**“But you are a Sergeant, Sergeant.”**

**“But I was Marky first,” said Sergeant July, “and I’ll be Marky last.”**

**Hellboy grinned. “Okay, Marky.” He sat back in his seat, nestling the sub safely in his lap. “Are we almost there?”**

**“Hard to know. Haven’t seen a road sign for . . .” Sergeant July counted on his fingers, “a hundred miles.”**

**Hellboy lay down on the bench seat and stared up at the ceiling of the cabin. “Feels like _two_ hundred.”**

**“ _Three_ hundred,” said Sergeant July.**

**“ _Four_ hundred!”**

**“ _Five_ hundred!**

**“Six!” said Hellboy, jumping to his knees.**

**“Six? Only six? Come on, Hellboy. It’s been at least six hundred and _one_ miles!”**

**Hellboy broke into giggles. “Okay, fine. Six hundred and one miles.”**

**“Well . . .” Sergeant July batted Hellboy’s arm. “Maybe I’m exaggerating.”**

**The lead convoy truck blew its horn, signaling the others to stop. They’d reached their destination.**

**Sergeant July brought their truck to a bumpy halt, then Hellboy scampered to the lead vehicle. Professor Bruttenholm lumbered down the steps, massaging his back. He stretched with a grunt. His shirt was sweat-soaked at the neck and armpits. He’d unbuttoned it to mid-chest and rolled the sleeves up past his elbows.**

**“Come on, Professor,” Hellboy said, grabbing Bruttenholm’s hand. “I want to see the water.”**

**“Easy now, easy now!” said Bruttenholm to no effect. He was being towed behind like a wagon, and there was little he could do to stop it.**

**The mysterious body of water resided among the parched bushed and dusty stones as if it had always been there, glistening and serene, darkening the sand around it. The nearly purple color suggested a considerable depth.**

**Hellboy dipped a foot into the water. He drew it out at once as a chill ran through him.**

**“It’s freezing!” he said, rubbing warmth back into his foot.**

**“Freezing?” said the professor. He squatted and touched the water with his pinky. “Good Lord! This water is practically ice!”**

**Lieutenant Bardgill marched up beside Professor Bruttenholm. Unlike Sergeant July, Bardgill gave Hellboy the heebie-jeebies. The soldier was perpetually stern, no matter what. He scowled when he was eating. He scowled when he was reading. On one occasion, when Hellboy was sneaking around after lights out, he learned Lieutenant Bardgill even scowled in his sleep. A burn smothered the right side of the man’s face and his ear. The skin was bubbled and pink, like a piece of boiling bubble gum.**

**“Damnedest thing I ever saw,” Bardgill said. He glanced down at Hellboy. “Nearly. Any theories, Professor Bruttenholm?”**

**“Those mountain ranges,” Bruttenholm gestured to the mountain to the east and west, “they allow for decent rainfall in the area—but not in August, and certainly not in quantities enough to fill a hole of this size. The weather reports showed no out-of-season rain. You might get this amount of water from some kind of ruptured aquifer, but that wouldn’t account for the size of the basin itself. It would take tremendous force to create something this large, and there’s not enough debris to verify a severe enough eruption.”**

**“So no scientific conclusions,” said Bardgill.**

**“No.”**

**“What about unnatural forces?”**

**The professor snickered. “Lieutenant, I assure you. There are no such thing as unnatural forces. Just natural forces the other way around.”**

**Hellboy placed his submarine in the body of water. It sank halfway. He pushed it with a finger, and the tiny vessel bobbed along as peacefully as if in a big bathtub.**

**“Bet you a torpedo could make a crater this big,” he said.**

**“Now what the God damn would be out here to launch a torpedo?”**

**Hellboy furrowed his brow and looked up at the towering Lieutenant. Against the sun, Bardgill was a pillar of burning shadow. Hellboy plucked his submarine out of the water and fiddled with it in his lap.**

**“I don’t know . . .” he said. “I was just saying . . .”**

**“Well, keep your saying to yourself, unless you have something insightful to add. Be useful to this mission or be out of the way.”**

**Professor Bruttenholm stood up. He was a head shorted than the soldier, but he did his best to appear only half a head shorter.**

**“Lieutenant, _please_ ,” he said. “There is no need for argument.”**

**“No argument, Professor,” said Bardgill. “Just trying to keep business moving. I’m going to help set up camp. You do whatever it is you do to get this investigation started.” He cast another glare and Hellboy, then back to Bruttenholm. “If you find a torpedo, let me know.”**

**The Lieutenant marched away, toward the gathering of soldiers unloading tents and supply crates from the back of the convey trucks.**

**The professor knelt beside Hellboy. “How deep do you think it goes?” he asked.**

**Hellboy shrugged. He continued rolling the sub in his fingers, eyes down.**

**“Oh, come now, my boy. You must have some guess.”**

**Hellboy, again, didn’t answer.**

**The professor lifted Hellboy’s chin and the two exchanged a silent but oft-repeated conversation with their eyes.**

**“When can we go home?” Hellboy asked.**

**“We just got here,” said the professor.**

**“Yeah, but when?”**

**Professor Bruttenholm shook his head. “I don’t know. These things can take time.”**

**“How much time?”**

**The professor put his hand on top of Hellboy’s head. “As much as they take.” Seeing the look on Hellboy’s face, he added, “But I will try to make it take less. Now. Help me get my supplies from the truck.”**

**The professor and Hellboy set off for the trucks. The water shined like obsidian under the desert sun—and, unbeknownst to them, a patch of shadow receded into the depths.**

**#**

**Night in the desert was as inhospitable as day. While everyone else was happy for the drop in temperature, as keeping warm was easier than keeping cool, Hellboy could not bundle himself enough. In his and the professor’s tent, he sat shivering, only his head visible above the boulder of blankets. Professor Bruttenholm hunched over his pop-up desk, running experiments on the water. With an eyedropper, he put tiny amounts of liquids and powders into the pond samples, grunted, then wrote notes in his notebook. He read off several incantations, which resulted in no effect at all. In the presence of charms, talismans, symbols, and hand signs, the water did nothing. This had been going for several hours without a single interesting thing happening.**

**Someone rapped on the tent flap.**

**“Come in,” said Professor Bruttenholm without looking up from his work.**

**Sergeant July poked his head inside.**

**“Evening, Professor,” he said.**

**He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a Hershey bar. He threw it to Hellboy. It bounced off the blanket shell.**

**“Saved ya that,” the soldier said.**

**Hellboy wriggled free of his blankets, snatched the chocolate, then rewrapped himself, leaving one arm free to hold the candy. He ate half the bar in one bite.**

**“Fanks, Marky!”**

**The professor looked up now. “Don’t give him chocolate so close to bed, Sergeant. He’ll never get to sleep.”**

**“Sorry, Professor. Won’t happen again.” He winked at Hellboy. “How’s it coming? Any curses? Hexes? Stuff like that?”**

**“No,” said Professor Bruttenholm. “It appears to be perfectly run-of-the-mill water. How it got there, I still don’t know, but the only thing I can get it to react to is Alka-Seltzer.”**

**Sergeant July smiled. “I was hoping you’d say that. Do you think it’s safe for me to take a swim?”**

**“Are you out of your mind?” the professor asked. “If it was freezing during the day, it must be nearly lethal at night!”**

**“Well, back home, I do this polar bear club thing. You know, ice diving. Swimming in the Atlantic in winter. I haven’t been able to do it in over a year and I’m dying to get in there. With your approval.”**

**The professor sighed. “If you must. But make it quick, would you? In and out. I may not be finding any curses or hexes, as you say, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t any. Or that you won’t run across a snake.”**

**Sergeant July clapped his hands. “Hot damn! That’s a yes! No take-backs! Thanks a million, Professor. You want to come along, Hellboy?”**

**“Yeah!” said Hellboy. “Oh. But I can’t swim.”**

**“ _And_ ,” said Bruttenholm, “it’s bedtime in twenty minutes.”**

**“It’s like you said, Professor,” July said. “In and out. We’ll be gone thirty seconds. Hellboy will be back in time for bed.” The soldier held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor. Besides, I need someone responsible to keep an eye on me. I wouldn’t trust me. Would you?” he asked Hellboy.**

**Hellboy giggled. “No way.”**

**“Exactly,” July said.**

**Bruttenholm raised a scrutinizing eyebrow to Hellboy, who returned with a pleading expression.**

**“Go ahead,” said the professor. “But five minutes, Sergeant. No more.”**

**“You got it,” said July. “Come on, Hellboy.”**

**Hellboy, still wrapped in six blankets, shuffled after the Sergeant like a miniature avalanche.**

**Together, they strode toward the pond. It was nearly ten ‘o’ clock and they were the only people outside. The moon morphed the desert into a cascade of black and silver. Coyotes cackled on the invisible horizon and yellow eyes stared from cactus burrows. Hellboy kicked over a stone, unveiling a scorpion. The insect whipped its bulbed stinger. The barb pierced the first layer of blanket.**

**“Ah-ha-ha!” Hellboy laughed. “You cannot hurt me! I am invincible!” He stuck out his tongue and went, “Bla-a-a-a-a-ah!”**

**The scorpion dashed under the safety of a different rock.**

**“Like I said,” said Sergeant July, “glad you’re on our side.”**

**When they made it to the edge of the pond, Sergeant July disrobed to his underwear. He set his dog tags down on his pants, then bounced on his toes and whirled his arms in circles. He looked like a tall goose failing to fly.**

**“What are you doing?” Hellboy asked.**

**“Getting the blood moving,” July answered. “Jumping into cold water, your muscles can cramp up. Gotta get yourself ready, or you might go down like a stone.”**

**“Bu that’s not going to happen to you, right, Marky?” Hellboy said.**

**“Nah,” said July. “I’ve done this tons of times. Plus, I got you watching me.” The man took a deep breath in through his nose and let it out through his mouth. With a final toe touch, Sergeant July dove into the water.**

**Hellboy searched the surface, waiting for the man to come up—but he didn’t.**

**Four seconds passed.**

**Five.**

**Six.**

**Hellboy turned back toward camp, about to shout, when July burst from below with a gasp.**

**“Christ on a bike!” he said, red face obvious even in the dark. “That is _cold_.”**

**The sergeant swam in a circle—first the doggie paddle, then overhand freestyle.**

**“How do you do that?” Hellboy asked.**

**“Do what?”**

**“Swim.”**

**Sergeant July swam to the lip of the crater and grabbed hold of the land. He floated his whole body to the surface.**

**“It’s a combination of two things,” he said. “You have to kick with your feet, like this.” The sergeant demonstrated. “And you have to do your arms out, like this.”**

**The sergeant took a few laps slowly, emphasizing the arc of his arms and the spearing motion of his hands. He then returned to the rim.**

**“Not so hard,” he said. “Why not jump in any try? I’ll keep you up.”**

**“No way!” Hellboy said. “I don’t even like showers. And I’m not a poodle bear like you.”**

**“Polar bear,” July chuckled. “You mean polar bear. Ah, well. I’ll get you to try it someday.”**

**Sergeant July pushed off, making a wide curve through the water. Somewhere toward the middle, he sucked under. The man was gone in a blink. Hellboy had seen a flash of Sergeant July right as he vanished—a moment of open-faced shock. He’d seen something slick and green lash him around the waist.**

**“Marky?” Hellboy said. “Marky!”**

**He swatted at the water, as if he could push it all aside, uncover the man below, but succeeded only in rippling his own terrified reflection. He threw off the blankets and inched forward, egging himself to jump in. Hellboy raised his arms in a clumsy copy of Sergeant July’s diving form.**

**But he was too afraid he, too, would sink below. He whimpered in frustration, then started to shout.**

**“Help! Help!”**

**Soldiers in various levels of dress poured out of their tents, sprinted toward Hellboy. Professor Bruttenholm was among them. So was Lieutenant Bardgill. The professor nearly fell as he skidded to his knees in front of Hellboy, gripping the boy’s shoulders tightly.**

**“What’s wrong?” he asked. The professor looked around. “Where is Sergeant July?”**

**Hellboy said, “He—He—was sw-swimming, and—and he—and then he—”**

**Lieutenant Bardgill barged up front. “Spit it out!” he said. “Where is the Sergeant? If you saw what happened, say it!”**

**Tears welled in Hellboy’s eyes, but he held them in. “He—He went under.”**

**“Jesus Christ,” said the Lieutenant. “That stupid idiot and his stupid idiot ice fetish.” Bardgill stripped off his own clothes, down to his boxer shorts and undershirt. “Somebody get a damn rope to tie to me!”**

**A soldier sprinted back toward camp.**

**“You can’t!” said Hellboy.**

**“Professor, get that damn devil out of here!” Bardgill said.**

**Professor Bruttenholm put his arm around Hellboy’s shoulders and tried to steer him away, mumbling soothing words, but Hellboy spun free of the professor’s touch.**

**“No!” said Hellboy. “Something grabbed him! I saw it! It pulled him!”**

**The soldier returned with the rope and wrapped it around Bardgill’s midsection.**

**“Hold that order, Fressella,” Bardgill said to the soldier. He bent down, getting nose-to-nose with Hellboy. “What do you mean, something grabbed him?”**

**The man’s breath smelled of aluminum and tuna fish. Hellboy winced at the odor.**

**“That’s what I mean. Something grabbed him.”**

**“What _something_?”**

**“I don’t know.”**

**Lieutenant Bardgill grabbed Hellboy by his shirt, twisting the cloth so tight the collar cut into Hellboy’s neck. “Tell me! What was it!”**

**“I don’t know!” Hellboy said. “Please! Let me go!”**

**Professor Bruttenholm wrenched the Lieutenant’s fists free. “That’s enough, Lieutenant!” he said. “He said he doesn’t know.”**

**“I’ve got a man down there,” Bardgill said, pointing to the water, “and maybe something else. I’m not accepting that that boy-monster of yours has no idea what took July. I’ve got half a mind to tie this rope around _him_ and use him like bait!”**

**Professor Bruttenholm stepped in front of Hellboy. “You will do no such thing. If you are going to dive in, Lieutenant, then do it. Or we can end this night with only one loss of life and investigate further in the morning.”**

**The lieutenant stared at the water, then ripped the cord from around him and threw it to the ground. He slipped back into his trousers and threw on his shirt, leaving it unbuttoned.**

**“Back to camp, men,” he said to the soldiers. “We’ll hold a vigil for July in ten minutes.” To Hellboy he said, “You better start remembering what you saw.”**

**The soldiers departed in a solemn mass.**

**Professor Picked up the blankets and hefted them around Hellboy’s shoulders. Hellboy hardly noticed. He was far, far away, in a blank place in his mind.**

**With as much gentleness as he could muster, Bruttenholm said, “Anything you do remember _would_ be very helpful.”**

**“I don’t know,” snapped Hellboy. And it was true. The memory was like the water. No matter how he pawed at it, he saw the same thing over and over again: a barrier composed of his own fright and nothing more.**

**“Yes.” The professor stood. “Come on. Let’s try to get some sleep.”**

**Back in the tent, Hellboy lay on his cot. Professor Bruttenholm lay on his. When Hellboy turned on his side, he found the remaining half of the Hershey bar. He reached for it, but hesitated, as if smelling poison.**

**He pushed a heap of sand on top of the chocolate and shut his eyes.**

**#**

**“Enough explosives to wake the Pope, that’s my plan,” Lieutenant Bardgill said.**

**The sun bore down on everyone like the flu. The heat dragged sweat from pores, then vaporized it just as fast, leaving everyone crusted with their own salt. The men strained to keep their eyes open. They wobbled, dehydrated. Professor Bruttenholm fanned himself with his notebook. Only Hellboy was comfortable—a fact which endeared him to no one. He stood far off to the side, clutching his submarine.**

**“We don’t know what we’re dealing with,” Bruttenholm said. “For all we know, explosives may only make it angry.”**

**“Good,” said the Lieutenant. “I like angry. I know what to do with angry. I’ve made a career of angry. Men, ready the bombs.”**

**“This is a mistake!” Bruttenholm pleaded, following Bardgill as he trudged toward a crate.**

**The soldiers were busy preparing an impromptu underwater mine. They’d wrapped one of the storage crates with a plastic tarp and secured it in place with nails. The crate had been filled with stones and a cache of timed explosive charges.**

**“Make sure that’s sealed tight!” Bardgill barked. “I don’t know how waterproof those timers are! It’s all fiddly electrics in there.”**

**Hellboy turned his attention to the pond. It seemed so calm now, like nothing bad had ever happened or could ever happen.**

**_I need someone responsible to keep an eye on me,_ July had said.**

**_I got you watching me,_ ** **July had said.**

**** **Hellboy was not sure what he could have done to stop Sergeant July’s attack, but he carried the guilt all the same. Maybe if he’d watched more closely, or maybe if he had gotten into the water like July asked. Maybe the creature would not have attacked if there’d been two of them.**

**A shadow moved underwater.**

**Hellboy got onto his hands and knees, leaned as far over the pond as he could.**

**The shadow approached him slowly, in a slithering like, like an arrow in slow-motion. It was long and thin, tendril-like. It was the thing from last night.**

**“Professor,” Hellboy mumbled, eyes transfixed on the water.**

**“All I am saying,” the professor was busy explaining, “is that violence without understanding may only lead to more deaths.”**

**“Lieutenant Bardgill,” Hellboy tried as the shadow drew closer.**

**“And what I am saying, Bruttenholm,” Bardgill replied, “is that, unless you speak lake, I don’t see another option.”**

**The shadow stopped a foot from Hellboy. It shifted, the shape beneath the surface turning to reveal Sergeant July.**

**At least, somewhat.**

**His body was embedded in the tentacle, flesh fused with flesh. His face was placid, a slight smile. A hand, unable to lift away from the tentacle, waved.**

**“Marky?” Hellboy said, eyes huge.**

**The tentacle retreated downward, disappearing.**

**Soldiers shoved the bomb crate to the edge of the pond. Lieutenant Bardgill gave it a final once over.**

**“I am telling you,” said the professor, “you might be making a fatalmistake.”**

**“Get him out of here,” Bardgill said to another solider, who dragged Bruttenholm away from the edge. “The only fatal mistake was the one our Nessie here made when it took Sergeant July.”**

**He nodded. The soldiers pushed the crate into the water.**

**Hellboy watched it sink. If that bomb was really as powerful as Bardgill claimed, it would kill anything inside the pond. That meant July too. Hellboy missed his chance to save the man once. He wouldn’t miss it again.**

**Poising his hands over his head, he dove. It was awkward, and he landed much flatter than July had, but he was in the water. The cold hit him like lightning. At first, he could not move a muscle and his teeth felt like they would pop.**

**Soon enough, though, his internal furnace pushed heat back into his limbs. He did the moves July showed him: kicking his feet, up, down; bringing his arms up, then through. The gestures were clunky. He did not move nearly as well as July, but he _was_ moving, downward, downward, deeper into the pond. He chased the crate, managing to catch it in midway to the bottom. Hellboy ripped away the tarp he pounded the crate with his giant right hand. Underwater, he didn’t have his usual strength. Normally, it would have taken only one blow to splinter the wood. After ten strikes, it was still intact.**

**The crate struck bottom. He punched and punched as his lungs tightened. He didn’t know how long he could hold his breath. On land, he could do it for several minutes. But down here, with the cold and pressure, slugging the crate, he felt the time nearing zero already.**

**With all his strength, Hellboy smashed his fist through the wood. Water rush inward, sucking his arm into the crate. He pulled it free, then kicked off toward the surface.**

**He didn’t make it far.**

**Hellboy was out of air.**

**He struggled to drag himself up as panic set in. He flailed in the darkness, a child alone, desperately screaming for the professor but able only to make helpless, useless gurgling noises. The black world grew even blacker.**

**And blacker . . .**

**And . . .**

**#**

**Hellboy woke with a jolt. He threw up water. It dripped from his chin and nose. His lungs burned as if they’d been filled with acid.**

**Sitting up, Hellboy rubbed his eyes. His surroundings came into focus. He was in a cave. It was small, with a little rock shelf. Though there was no light, he’d always had excellent dark vision. Before him, July swayed half out the water.**

**“I thought you weren’t going to come to,” July said. “But then, that’s me being a dummy for doubting you.”**

**“Marky? What happened to you? Why are you in that thing?”**

**“I don’t think I can explain it, really. This creature took me and made me part of itself. There are others here. Twelve, I think, though it’s still hard to hear all the voices.”**

**“Does . . . Did . . .”**

**“No,” said Sergeant July. “It doesn’t hurt. It did a little at first, but it’s . . . calm now.”**

**Hellboy crawled to the edge of the shelf. “I’m going to get your free, Marky. Hold on. I’ll get the professor, and—”**

**“No, Hellboy,” July said. “I’m part of this now. I don’t think separating is going to work out too well for me.”**

**Tears welled in Hellboy’s eyes, trickled down his cheeks. His lips trembled and he could not have stood if he wanted to.**

**“I’m sorry, Marky. I was supposed to watch you. I was supposed to keep a lookout for you.”**

**July moved closer. His figure was impossible to determine. There was no way to tell where the tentacle ended and he began.**

**“Hey, come on. I’m the idiot who went jumping in. I was being a show-off. Paid for that, huh?”**

**“But why did it have to take you?” Hellboy asked.**

**Marky sighed. “It might be big, but it’s just a little kid. It’s lonely. It’s building a family, I think. Things it likes. It’s burrowing around, finding whatever makes it happy.”**

**“But . . .” Hellboy sniffled. “But now we can’t be family.”**

**Sergeant July kept smiling, now through his own tears. “Oh, can that, Hellboy. Sure, we can. Family doesn’t stop being family because it’s somewhere else. You and me, we’re both poodle bears now.”**

**Hellboy tilted his head, confused.**

**“You dove in the freezing water. You went all the way to the bottom. That’s real poodle bear stuff if I’ve ever seen it.”**

**Hellboy wiped his eyes. “I thought you said it was polar bear.”**

**“Did I?” Sergeant July scrunched his lips. “No . . . No . . . Definitely poodle bear. Listen, pal. I think I got to get you back now. Can’t keep you in this cave forever, can I?”**

**Sergeant July brought himself close to Hellboy, and the demon hugged him.**

**July brought Hellboy out of the cave and let him go a few feet from the surface. Hellboy When Hellboy emerged, a soldier on the shore cried to camp.**

**Everyone came running. Professor Bruttenholm threw a rope out to Hellboy and a team reeled him onto shore. From there, the professor could not decide whether he wanted to coo him or scold him more.**

**Lieutenant Bardgill marched over.**

**“You broke the bomb,” he said. “Why?”**

**Hellboy could not think of a good lie, so he told the truth. “Because Marky is down there.”**

**“You know, I think it is very suspicious that my man is out in that water for two minutes, he’s dead as a doornail, but you—you go under for half an hour, come back looking no worse for wear. It’s no jump to see there’s a game of sides going on here.”**

**“It’s not my fault,” Hellboy said.**

**“Now, you listen up, you little shi--!”**

**“Bardgill!”**

**The voice came from the pond. Everyone turned to see Sergeant July, broadly, risen from the water.**

**“Jesus H . . .” Bardgill said.**

**“Watch that tongue, Bardgill,” Sergeant July said.**

**Bardgill nodded, stunned.**

**Sergeant July winked, then was gone.**

**“Told you,” said Hellboy.**

**Lieutenant Bardgill ordered the troops back to camp, offering no apology to Hellboy. Nevertheless, the look of furious humiliation on the Lieutenant’s face sufficed. The professor wanted to hear all about what happened beneath the water, and Hellboy promised to tell him on the ride home.**

**Before they returned to camp, Hellboy ran back to the pond and placed his submarine in the water. He pushed it out toward the center, then returned to the professor. When he looked back, the submarine was gone.**

**#**

**_1986 – Nova Scotia_ **

****

**A blizzard covered the land with three feet of snow. After hours of searching, Hellboy and Liz Sherman discovered their target: a frozen lake in which resided the fabled Smoking Mirror, said to be used by the Aztec god, Tezcatlipoca, to see the whole cosmos. The Bureau thought it was the kind of thing better locked in a vault than left idle for an ambitious sorcerer or vengeful spirit.**

**Helboy smashed a hole in the surface of the ice.**

**Liz peered in.**

**“Flip a coin to see who goes,” she said. “Heads I win, tails you lose.”**

**“I’ll save you the dime,” Hellboy said. He took off his heavy jacket and hat, leaving him in only his shorts. He bounced and swung his arms in circles.**

**“You don’t have to go in,” Liz told him. “Now that we know where it is, we can get a dive team here.”**

**“Don’t bother.”**

**Hellboy took a deep breath and jumped into the water. He froze up, then, soon, regained control. The mirror was likely at the bottom of the lake. He started swimming down, kicking his legs, spearing his arms through the water, just like Sergeant July showed him.**

**Liz was right, in a sense. It would have been a better idea to get a dive team here, guys with special suits and rebreathers. But it was a waste of time, and Hellboy knew he could handle it. He was, after all, a poodle bear.**


End file.
